


No Return Address

by tomorrowsthe16th



Category: VeggieTales
Genre: Gen, Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 22:43:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11884398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomorrowsthe16th/pseuds/tomorrowsthe16th
Summary: "Come now, let us settle this."





	No Return Address

**Author's Note:**

> I Do Not Know A Darn Thing About Religion My Guy I Just Wanted To Write A Fanfic About Mr. Lunt.
> 
> Anyway, this takes place just after Lyle the Kindly Viking.

“Mail call!”

Since joining Veggietales, Jimmy Gourd took it upon himself to organize and deliver the mail, and the more time went on, the more of it they got.

Many of the letters were fan mail. Though Larry got the most fanmail of anyone, everyone else got plenty of letters. The French Peas found themselves overwhelmed with the amount of fanmail they received and used it to fill a small pool they could swim in a la Scrooge McDuck. Unfortunately, it was difficult for them to do this without getting paper cuts. Mr. Nezzer would get letters from kids with the same fondness for chocolate bunnies, and he would write back on each and every one that while they were yummy treats, they best be saved for a special occasion and they should not overindulge. Even the Scallions would often receive letters from kids giving them ideas for names, which all three found adorable.

Then there were _those_ letters. Those complaining about something done in the show. Usually from concerned parents or upset fans, Bob and Archibald handled those, unless they were about a certain person. Then that person would get involved as well. Bob and Archibald tried their best to make everyone happy, but it was troublesome at times and some complaints like rapping in a children’s show weren’t a big deal.

The final group of letters, the biggest of them all, was the bunch of letters Bob and Larry got asking for advice. Bob and Larry read these letters together and tried their best to answer them best they could, whether that be writing back, or featuring the letter in a show.

The letters, of course, were usually written by kids, though sometimes the kid would write themselves or a parent would write as the kid dictated. Every so often, they’d get an email too. Though what they didn’t get too often was a typewritten letter, so the one they received today caught their attention.

 

> Dear Bob and Larry,
> 
> I’ve done something terrible a while ago. It was an accident and I am truly sorry for what I did. I know ~~L~~ everyone involved forgives me, but I still feel bad about it. How can I forgive myself?

“No one signed it!” Larry said.

“That’s weird,” Bob said. “It doesn’t have a return address either.”

“Was it… Written on a typewriter?” Larry asked.

“Does any kid know how to use a typewriter anymore?”

“Bob, _I_ hardly know how to use a typewriter!”

“Maybe a parent typed it?” Bob pondered

“I don’t know, Bob. A parent would at least put a return address on something like that.”

“Well who do you think wrote it?”

* * *

 

Mr. Lunt’s return to Veggietales was… hectic to say the least. Larry called him about being in some big epic special and now that they were done with that, they were working on not only another show, but a _movie_ to boot. And he was a co-producer!

It was surreal. Almost as if his break from work never happened. But to him, it did. Some days he felt like retreating back into his house for several months, despite the warm faces he was greeted with every day.

Or maybe it was because of them. He didn’t deserve them. Not after what he did to Larry.

But he didn’t dare show that he was upset. That’d just make everything about him. That was the _last_ thing he wanted.

Mr. Lunt was pretty good at hiding his emotions, but there were times he slipped away from the rest of the cast to wallow in guilt. After filming for “Lyle the Kindly Viking,” he told everyone that he’d catch up with them in a bit. When an hour passed, Mr. Nezzer found Lunt lying inside the boat, still in his Viking costume with his hat covering everything above his nose.

“Lunt, what are you doing?” Mr. Nezzer asked.

“Nothing,” Mr. Lunt replied without missing a beat.

“Nothing?”

“Yes, nothing.”

“Just lying in a boat, then?”

“The sea is my domain.”

Mr. Nezzer smiled. He knew what game Lunt was playing. “So if you’re a pirate that doesn’t do anything, why are you dressed like a Viking?”

“That would involve changing clothes, which would involve _doing something_ ,” Mr. Lunt replied.

“So where are your other two pirates?”

“I have been stranded! Abandoned! Left to die in this hot, hot… actually it’s kind of chilly… Puny, worthless sun!”

“You poor thing, left to wither away!”

“Oh, woe is me!”

“If only a helping hand would come back and save you from the treacherous seas!”

“ **What hand**?”

The two broke out into laughter as Mr. Nezzer helped Mr. Lunt out of the boat.

“Now, do you wanna tell me what the real trouble is?” Mr. Nezzer asked, sitting down on the beach where they filmed.

“What makes you think there’s real trouble?” Mr. Lunt asked, sitting beside him.

“Well you wouldn’t have spent an hour lying in that boat unless something was wrong, no matter how lazy you are. I know you better. You’d get bored.”

“Maybe I am just becoming a new kind of person who lies in ships for an hour doing nothing.”

Mr. Nezzer skeptically looked at Mr. Lunt, who grinned back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Mr. Nezzer asked. “It’s alright if you don’t.”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Mr. Lunt said.

Mr. Nezzer looked concerned now. Oh geez. Lunt couldn’t deal with that.

“Alright, I’ll tell you,” Mr. Lunt finally caved. “I don’t want you worrying about me or anything. Just promise you won’t tell anyone or feel any kind of pity for me. Don’t try to make me feel better.”

“I’ll do my best,” Mr. Nezzer said.

“The thing is, since I came back everyone’s been real nice to me.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad thing.”

“It’s not I… I just don’t think I deserve it after what I did.”

“Is this about that Cheeseburger thing?" Mr. Nezzer asked. "Didn’t Larry forgive you for that?”

“Yeah, he did," Mr. Lunt said, "but I still feel real crummy about it. Like I was let off the hook too easy.”

“It wasn’t even your fault!”

“Yeah I know that. It’s not like committed some unforgivable sin or anything, but I still feel guilty.”

“Well there’s no need for you to be so hard on yourself.”

“Too late!”

“Hmmm, do you think there’s some way you can work out your feelings?”

“I should have specified ‘no advice’ too, but I’ll try that. Thanks, boss.”

Mr. Nezzer smiled at the nickname as the two left the beach.

* * *

 

“Hey Jimmy.”

“Oh, hey there Mr. Lunt.”

“Sorting the mail, huh?”

“Yep, we got a pretty big bunch today. I wonder how much more we’re gonna get after our big screen debut! It’s in pretty capable hands after all.”

“It’s in no hands at all.”

“Hoho! Good one Lunt!”

Silence.

“So, what are all these piles for?” Mr. Lunt asked.

“Taking an interest in mail are you? Well I have a perfectly organized system here. These cards stacked on the table are fan mail for us. The pile on the left here are the complaining letters, and the ones on the right are the kids asking for advice.”

“Oh wow that one’s pretty big.”

“You’d be surprised how many kids look to Bob and Larry for advice. They’re pretty big role models.”

“Yeah, they sure are,” Lunt said absentmindedly. He was more eyeing the pile of advice letters.

It’d be so easy for him to just pull the letter he wrote last night from his hat and stuff it in there. But something was stopping him. He felt… nervous? This was way too silly. But before he knew it, he’d slammed the letter into the pile and hopped off.

* * *

 

“We could do a Larry Boy story,” Bob suggested.

“That could work,” Larry said. “Or we could have someone else host the show.”

Bob winced. “But you saw what happened with Archibald! And Jimmy and Jerry before that!”

“That’s why we get him involved early,” Larry said. “I know just the guy who could host it. If you get any other ideas for stories, we can talk those over later.”

Larry rushed out holding the letter before Bob even had a chance to ask Larry who he was talking about.

* * *

 

Mr. Lunt stared down at his clipboard, the only thing on it was the name Dunkin Donuts, circled twice. He tapped a pen against the side of his mouth, and jumped almost a foot in the air when Larry came in.

“You alright Lunt?” Larry asked.

“Oh yeah, besides the almost heart attack I had just now, I’m dandy.”

“Sorry about that, but we did plan this meeting.”

“Still, coulda showed up when I was a little less lost in thought.”

“What do you got so far?” Larry asked.

Mr. Lunt showed Larry his clipboard, and Larry nodded in agreement.

“Hey, Lunt, before we get started there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“What’s up?”

“I was talking it over with Bob and I thought it’d be a good idea to have you host a show!”

“Me? Host the show?” Mr. Lunt asked. “I don’t know. We kinda got the movie going on, and I only just got back. It’s a little bit too much for one decorative gourd.”

“Well of course we’d do it after the movie was done,” Larry explained. “And besides, I think you’d be perfect to host this one.”

“What is it?”

“Well, we got this weird letter with no return address about someone feeling guilty-“

And that’s when Mr. Lunt felt himself start to get sick. He assumed Bob and Larry would just read it and throw it out. That it was just something cathartic, but no. Larry was coming to him about his very own letter!

“-and I figured since you felt really guilty about the whole silly song thing, you might be able to talk about it!”

“Let me see that letter,” Mr. Lunt said.

Larry handed Mr. Lunt the letter, who stared at it for a moment, and then proceeded to tear it up.

“What the-?” Larry was confused. “Lunt what are you doing?!”

“Well I’ll tell you what I’m not doing. I’m not doing that show and I’m not reading that stupid letter.”

“Why not?”

“I… I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” Mr. Lunt said. “Do you think we can meet up some other time?”

“Um, okay. When?”

 _Never,_ Mr. Lunt thought. “Tomorrow I guess?”

“That sounds good,” Larry said. “By the way, I’m sorry if I upset you.”

“It’s alright. Sorry if I seemed angry or anything. I just don’t want you guys doing that show, at least not with that letter.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Larry asked.

“I said, I don’t wanna talk about it,” Mr. Lunt said, leaving in a huff.

* * *

 

“You did _what_?” Mr. Nezzer asked in disbelief.

“I put it in the mail pile,” Mr. Lunt said, burying himself in a pillow.

“You know Bob and Larry read all the mail they get, don’t you?”

Mr. Lunt arose. “Well I know that _now_. Thing is I thought I’d feel better if I got my thoughts out there. Now I just feel embarrassed and worse.”

“Maybe you should talk it out,” Mr. Nezzer advised.

“We’re doing that.”

“I meant you and Larry.”

“I did that too. Back when they got me back for Esther. He said he forgave me and that everyone missed me and they had a perfect role for me and stuff. Everything’s all better now.”

“But you still feel bad,” Mr. Nezzer pointed out.

“But it isn’t about _me_. It was never about me. It was about Larry.” Mr. Lunt slammed his body back into the pillow. “If it wasn’t for this stupid movie I would drop out of society and become a layabout, riding on the train, not knowing what lies ahead, and no one would even look at me.”

“Come on, Lunt. You know you can’t do that!” Nezzer said. “What would you eat?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the train.”

Mr. Nezzer tried his hardest not to laugh. “I still think you oughta talk to Larry about this. If you still feel that crummy we can talk about healthier meal options than train.”

“Fffine,” Mr. Lunt finally agreed.

* * *

 

The next day, Mr. Lunt slowly crept into the room where he and Larry were going to talk about the new movie.

“Hey, Larry. I just wanted to say again sorry about yesterday.”

Larry put down the clipboard. Nothing was added to it except the circled Dunkin Donuts was now underlined three times.

“It’s alright!” Larry said.

“I think I owe you an explanation. I…” Ugh, this was embarrassing! “I wrote the letter.”

“You wrote it?” Larry asked.

“I know you said you forgave me for the whole Cheeseburger thing and invited me back to work on the show, but I still feel really bad about it. I’m really sorry about it.”

“I already told you. I forgive you!”

“I know, but I keep thinking about it. I still feel really guilty. I don’t want to make this about me, but I just feel like I did something unforgivable, even if I didn’t mean to.”

“Well it’s cool, Lunt. The past is in the past!”

“I guess. But if there’s something I can do to make it up to you, just tell me.”

“Well… You can help me produce the movie!” Larry said with a smile.

Mr. Lunt smiled back at him. He was starting to feel a little better. Maybe talking about it did help a little. Sure he still felt bad, but it was the kind of bad where he would spend the rest of his days living, breathing, eating the train.


End file.
